Timberman Werebear Page 7

  Brighton stalled, smiling at her with his head cocked. He leaned forward, close to her ear. Close enough for her to hear his struggling whisper. “You’ve always been his.”

  Chills rippled up her forearms as he turned and walked away. Skyler and Brooke looked at her like she’d grown a floppy dong out of her forehead.

  “Uuuh,” Brooke said. “Did Brighton just talk to you?”

  “Does he not talk to you?”

  “Nope,” Skyler said, shaking her head for emphasis. “That man hasn’t talked to anyone since I moved to the trailer park.”

  “Oh.” She watched Brighton’s receding back. He was covered in curious scars, all perfectly straight from his spine to his side like tiger stripes, and aligned in rows like he’d been deliberately cut for decoration. “Maybe he talks to me because I’m Denison’s girlfriend…er, mate.”

  “Maybe,” Brooke said, following the others. Over her shoulder she said, “But I haven’t seen him talk to Denison either.”

  Holy shit. Well, that was a revelation. Danielle suddenly felt honored that Brighton had chosen to share that whisper with her. He always swallowed hard after he said something, as if it hurt to make that much effort to push air particles past his vocal chords. But he’d still done it…for her.

  The brothers climbed nimbly up onto springboards suspended halfway up the tall, vertical chopping logs, high up in the air. The boards bounced under them as they tested their balance. Kellen climbed up beside one of the Gray Back competitors and lifted his lip in a snarl.

  Denison hadn’t spared a glance at the Gray Back competitors until he was finished with each event. But right now, tension rolled off his shoulders when Matt took the log right next to him and stared at him with an obnoxious, empty smile on his lips.

  “Come on, Denison,” she said, clapping and hoping to hold his attention away from Matt’s whispered taunts.

  Brighton crouched down on his springboard, ax held out for balance like he was going to tackle Denison any second. It was the eyes. Denny was seething, the fury lightening his eyes to a snow white color.

  Tagan was standing closer to his competitors and called out something sharp to Denison, but she couldn’t understand what he said.

  Denison’s lips pulled away from his teeth as he pulled the ax out of his stump and turned his attention toward Matt.

  Matt was already bending at the knees, like he was ready to brawl and get disqualified too, right here in front of everyone.

  Aw, shit pills. “Denny!” she yelled.

  He turned slowly as the announcer asked if the contestants were ready.

  Danielle gave him a glare and angled her chin. “I want that goat, Denny.”

  He stared at her, and for a moment, she thought he couldn’t understand the words she was saying anymore. Maybe he was too far gone. But when that whistle blew, Denny angled his body and sank the ax deep into the flesh of the log he was balanced on. Brighton spared one look of gratitude to her, then twisted his body with the blow of his ax. Rhythmic chop, chop, chopping filled the entire area, and the onlookers surged forward, crowding around this final event before the relay.

  Boarlanders, Gray Backs, and Ashe Crew competitors were causing heavy damage to the logs, but Danielle found it hard to look away from Denny. His arms and torso flexed with each blow he sent shuddering through the log. His eight-pack rippled as he pulled the ax back out and swung in a graceful arch again. Full determination took his face as he set his stormy silver eyes on the task of demolishing the thick log with his ax blade.

  The cheers from the crowd were deafening, drowning out the sound of the axes sinking into the splintering wood. Danielle was bumped and pushed forward, but she didn’t care. Denison was beautiful, powerful…lethal. She’d never seen this side of him. It wasn’t the sweet side or the protective side. This was fierce competitiveness and acute focus. The same hands that could pluck the most beautiful notes out of a guitar were gripping an ax and doing serious damage with each swing. His springboard bounced as he found his rhythm.

  It was so close, she almost couldn’t watch. She couldn’t tell who was winning. Brighton, Denny, and Kellen looked to be neck and neck with the other crews. Onlookers were starting to chant the names of their favorite crews, and she joined in.

  “Ashe Crew, Ashe Crew!”

  Great goodness, she was proud of these boys. Skyler was jumping up and down beside her, chanting for Kellen, and Danielle couldn’t stop the excitement that bubbled out of her throat as the boys got closer and closer to chopping through the wood. She chanted louder with the crowd and squeezed Skyler’s hand as they jumped together.

  Denison gave one last powerful swing and his log buckled, then the top half caved. Kellen’s went a split second later, followed by Matt’s, then Brighton’s. The onlookers were going wild around them, and she and Skyler faced each other and screamed elatedly.

  They’d done it. They’d qualified for the relay.

  The announcer called it, and Denison jumped from his springboard like he couldn’t get away from Matt fast enough. As he weaved through the crowd, Danielle bolted for him. He crushed her to his chest as soon as he reached her and buried his face against her neck.

  “I need a minute. I need a minute,” he said low, over and over again.

  Aw, crap. Danielle gave Skyler a helpless look and guided him through the crowd. Where were his sunglasses? She couldn’t remember where he’d put them. Maybe they were still in the cup holder on top of the cooler near the lake.

  The onlookers clapped Denison on the back as they passed, and his body vibrated with the reverberating congratulatory hits.

  “It’s okay, I’m here,” she murmured.

  As soon as they were free of the masses, she turned and pulled him toward the tents. An alleyway would be ideal, but just as she found one without anyone in it, she spied something even better. A dressing tent for the contestants had been erected. She dashed inside, but only one man remained in there, shirt off and texting on his phone from a bench against the white canvas wall.

  “Out,” she ordered.

  The man looked up, then his eyes darted to Denison behind her, who was shifting his weight from side to side, looking down.

  “Is he hurt?” Texty Fingers asked.

  “He’ll be fine.” She jerked her chin toward the door. Hint, hint.

  The man grabbed a gym back and rushed out the opening. Danielle tied the three cords that sealed the tent flaps closed and turned just in time to catch Denison’s hug. He lifted her off her feet and squeezed until she struggled to draw breath. She was finding it really hard to complain right now, though, because Denison was emitting a low rumble that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

  “Shhh.” Draping her arms around his neck, she squeezed him and laid kisses across his forehead.

  The scruff of his short beard brushed against her shirt, and her skin warmed as he exhaled a breath against the fabric.

  “I can’t stop…I can’t,” he murmured, not making any sense.

  Whatever was happening was bad, and she didn’t know what to do to help him.

  Desperately, she lifted his chin to plead with him. His eyes were feral and reflected oddly in the dim light like an animal’s. Unthinking, she lowered her mouth and brushed her tongue against his. He opened for her and cupped the back of her head. His kiss became urgent and needy, and suddenly, she was burning from the inside out. Whatever he was doing, whatever he was pulling from her, pooled instant wetness between her legs. It was instinctive, the need to be with him, something deep within her she was helpless to stop.

  “Denny, please,” she begged. Please what? She didn’t know.

  “Can you be quiet?” he asked. “I’ll take care of you. Can you keep quiet if I touch you?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  He set her on her feet and yanked at the fly of her jeans, then shoved his hand into her panties and cupped her sex. She moaned as he slid his finger inside of her and pressed his palm against her clit
. His kisses were hard, swallowing the sound.

  His heartbeat raced under her hand as she rubbed the smooth skin there, and his nipple drew up into a tight bud under her touch. A delicious shiver began at the base of her tailbone and zinged up her spine until it landed in her shoulders. She loved Denny like this. Wild, barely in control, slits of snowy color every time he barely opened his eyes.

  Encircling her waist with his arm, he pressed his finger into her harder and sped up the pace. She was already gone, floating to pieces, held together only by Denny’s embrace. She didn’t realize she was the one making the gasping sound until he shushed her softly and filled her mouth with his tongue, taking away her voice.

  His bicep flexed with each stroke into her, and she tossed her head back as he drew an orgasm from her. Her body clenched around his finger over and over as waves of pleasure washed through her.

  Denison let out a trembling sigh that sounded nothing shy of relieved, and he relaxed his hold around her hips. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were gray once more. Still too light to be completely human, but closer to his own color.

  “I’m sorry,” he said on a breath.

  “Don’t ever apologize for that. You just shared more of yourself with me than you ever have,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his.

  He pulled his hand from between her legs and buttoned her carefully, then took his time making sure her shirt was straight and the hem perfect. He was stalling, and she smiled at how endearing it was.

  “Are you ready to go back out there now?” she asked.

  “Geez, Badger. You really want that goat, don’t you?”

  “I want the Ashe Crew to win this.”

  Amusement pooled in the soft color of his eyes as he searched her face. “That’s my girl.”

  Chapter Nine

  Danielle’s head bobbed against the seat cushion with the uneven road. Her lips were parted slightly, her dark hair fanned across her cheek. Denison pulled his attention away from Kellen’s taillights in front of his Bronco long enough to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could see her face better.

  He’d been drinking her in since she fell asleep an hour ago. It was dark out, but the glow of the radio dials illuminated her face in soft blues.

  The little gray goat lay in her lap, curled into a compact ball under her hands, staring back at him and apparently comfortable to just be still against Danielle.

  She’d always had a way with animals. She never met a dog on the street she didn’t stop and pet, then rope the owners into a conversation about how cute their fur baby was. He’d taken her to a petting zoo when she’d been here before, just to watch her light up from the inside as she spent three hours petting every single animal. She’d named every last one of them and asked their keeper about their quality of life.

  Denison sighed and narrowed his eyes at the sharp angle of a switch back he had to maneuver carefully to avoid going over a side rail and off a cliff.

  Danielle liked animals, so maybe she could handle the snarling beast inside of him.

  But what if she couldn’t?

  What if she ran?

  It was too risky to share himself completely with her right now. He had to be patient. Had to wait until he was absolutely sure he wouldn’t lose his mate again.

  He’d watched Tagan after Brooke had left. His alpha had been forced to Turn the woman he loved, and she wasn’t able to deal with it here surrounded by the Ashe Crew. She’d escaped to Boulder and spent months trying to control the grizzly inside of her. And Tagan had burned up, losing the connection with the enraged animal that sat just below the surface of his skin.

  And Denison had burned with him.

  He’d known that feeling—felt the ache of a mate loss. He hadn’t been able to talk to Tagan or look at the heartbreak in his eyes without feeling sick to his stomach. Watching Tagan try to go on with life after losing Brooke had dredged up so many feelings about Danielle. Memories and a stark reminder of all he’d lost. He’d burned inside along with his alpha, but he’d hidden his sleepwalking and uncontrollable Changes. Nightmares of awful things happening to Danielle in some anonymous city where he couldn’t get to her, couldn’t save her.

  When Brooke had returned, the relief Denison had felt was almost tangible. The nightmares had stopped, and the sleepwalking, too. He was able to put the pain away and lock it behind a set of iron doors in his mind. He could function again without being consumed with thoughts of his own lost mate.

  Now Danielle was back, too. Denison had seen the bond between Tagan and Brooke grow over the months, and he wanted that with Danielle so badly he was second guessing every decision he made with her.

  He had to be careful about his timing, but he couldn’t wait too long or she’d feel left out and leave like she did last time. Either way, he’d probably lose her.

  Women didn’t tend to stick around for this kind of life, and especially not human women. Choosing him back would mean painful decisions. It would mean deciding to become a bear shifter from his bite if she ever wanted to be truly claimed by him. It meant they would struggle to start a family, because history showed it was difficult for his kind to breed. She’d have to think long and hard about whether he was worth the pain and the constant care of the angry animal he would put inside of her, and then she’d have to decide if he was enough for her. If she could handle them being a family of two for the rest of their lives if he wasn’t able to give her a cub.

  Shit. He curved his spine over the pain in his stomach. Gripping the wheel until his hands hurt, he shook his head in the dark at the predicament he’d found himself in. He’d been a kid when he met Danielle, gangly and barely over twenty, and he’d allowed his bear to bond to her—to a human—without thinking of the consequences to her. He’d been so stupid, but love had ruled his life. His instincts had screamed she was his from the first time he’d met her, but he’d fought it. He’d tried to spare her at first. Spare her from his past and from the danger that lurked, snarling and waiting inside of him. But Danielle didn’t get the name Badger for nothing. That woman had wanted him back and was determined to have him.

  And he’d given in to her. How could he not? She was his mate, and he wanted to please her. Wanted to be with her and make her happy. Satisfying her had been the only thing that ever soothed the seething turmoil that constantly bubbled inside of him. It was bearable when she was near.

  At twenty-one, he hadn’t been strong enough to resist the idea that Danielle, the beautiful balm to his slashed-up soul, could be his for always.

  He looked at her again and hated himself for what he would ask her to do. She looked so innocent and happy cuddled against the passenger’s seat of his Bronco, snuggling the baby goat.

  It didn’t matter that claiming her would be wrong, though, or that it would hurt her.

  He already knew he would ask her because he was too weak to let her go again.

  ****

  “I’m going to name him Bocephus. We can call him Bo for short,” Danielle said sleepily as she handed the goat to Brooke.

  The woman laughed and nodded. “That’s a fine trailer park goat name. Tagan is setting up a pen for him behind our place for the night.

  “Nighty night, wittle Bo,” Danielle said in a silly voice as she scratched behind his oversize, drooping gray ears. “I’ll give you a million snuggles tomorrow.” She kissed a little white swirl of fur right between his eyes, then watched Brooke and Tagan leave with him.

  Aw, she was going to miss Bo until tomorrow. She’d never had a goat before, though she knew a ridiculous amount of random facts about them thanks to her insatiable thirst for knowledge on anything furry, covered in tree bark, or plant matter.

  When she turned around, Denison was looking at her with his lips pursed into a thin line. He almost looked…sad.

  “I’m staying with you tonight,” she announced, marching past him into his trailer. “The Airstream is too big and lonely.
”

  His deep chuckle behind her sent chills of anticipation up the back of her neck.

  “Badger, you’re welcome to stay with me any time you want to.”

  He muttered something under his breath, and she turned. “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re welcome to stay with me—”

  “No, after that. What did you mutter all quiet and sneaky-like?”

  His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. “I said, forever if you like.”

  She moved to the couch in the center of the living room and leaned against the back to buy herself time to settle the flapping butterfly wings fluttering around her belly. “You’d let me stay here forever?”

  Denison closed the door gently behind him, then leaned his back against it. “Of course I would.”

  She couldn’t help the emotional smile that commandeered her face. “Today was the best day I can remember.”

  His gaze darkened and dipped to her tender lip. “Even though Matt hurt you?”

  “Yes. He didn’t ruin our day. Only a tiny part of it. You let me in a little today, and it was more than you gave me in the months that we were together last time. You’ve changed, Denison Donovan Beck. And for the better, if you ask me. I liked the boy you were. I love the man you’ve become.”

  He approached slow and slipped his hands around her waist, then bent down and rested his cheek against hers. As if he heard the cadence of music that wasn’t there, he rocked them slowly back and forth in a dance that made her melt against him.

  “Tell me more about what you like,” he murmured in a soft stroke against her ear.

  “I like that you are so devoted to your friends here. I like that you and Brighton are still close, and I like how you treat Skyler and Brooke. You boys revere them, always moving to take care of their needs before your own. You treated me like that today, and it made me feel adored and cared for. I like that you seem proud to have me beside you. That you don’t mind that the boys give you a hard time over showing affection toward me. I like that you respect Mother Nature. And Denny?”